


The Merfolk Prince and the Male Princess

by NyxKeilantra413



Series: The Chronicle of the Male Princess [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Humor, M/M, Princes & Princesses, are you a merfolk if you can shapeshift without trading your voice, kolivan gets his happy ending here, no shiro this time sorry everybody :"(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 22:23:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13510986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxKeilantra413/pseuds/NyxKeilantra413
Summary: The waves crash against the barnacle-riddled sides of the ship, droplets from time to time reaching the portholes. Seagulls screech from above. Other than that, the sea is calm today. Not a soul at the port suspects that in the midst of it all, the princess cries out in fear—“Stop. No. Help.”Princess Keith, currently in a pirates’ ship instead of in a dragon’s claws for a change, monotonously repeats the words. His eyes, appearing dark blue under the sunlight, stares at the crow’s nest above as he stretches down as flat as he can, what with the ropes keeping his forearms bound between his back and the deck floor.“You know, you don’t have to give us a performance. We’ll be satisfied with a ransom.”





	The Merfolk Prince and the Male Princess

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who decides to turn this into a series?? That's right, THIS reckless fool *points at self with both thumbs before back flipping into the ocean and drowning at once*

The waves crash against the barnacle-riddled sides of the ship, droplets from time to time reaching the portholes. Seagulls screech from above. Other than that, the sea is calm today. Not a soul at the port suspects that in the midst of it all, the princess cries out in fear—

“Stop. No. Help.”

Princess Keith, currently in a pirates’ ship instead of in a dragon’s claws for a change, monotonously repeats the words. His eyes, appearing dark blue under the sunlight, stares at the crow’s nest above as he stretches down as flat as he can, what with the ropes keeping his forearms bound between his back and the deck floor.

“You know, you don’t have to give us a performance. We’ll be satisfied with a ransom.”

Perched on the bow of the ship, Pirate Captain Rolo casually reminds Keith, his own eyes not straying from the map on his lap.

Wait, no, Keith just spots a book lying open over the map. _His Mistress of the Sea_ —really, an erotica?

“If you _do_ want to give a performance, though, I would like a less lacklustre one.”

First Mate Nyma pipes up from her own spot, sitting with crossed legs (legs, not ankles as is polite) on top of a barrel.

Keith scoffs. “Shut the hell up, Nyma. Your sailor’s knot sucks. Give back your Scout Knot Tying Merit Badge.”

Nyma tosses her hair in pride. “Jokes on you, Your Highness, this merit badge is a fake! I made it myself and sold it to other girl scouts when I was twelve.”

She looks around and notices that Keith and Rolo are looking back at her with matching confused expression, making her toss her hair again, this time in indignation.

“Well, twelve-year-old me considered it a good source of income.”

Keith has ~~been forcibly dragged into~~ attended enough etiquette lessons to know how to respond politely,

“I’m sure you did.”

* * *

 

Back at the castle, Crown Princess Allura screeches.

“Summon the knights! Draft more from the villages if we have to! We must storm the cave! My beloved brother’s chastity is in danger!”

“Of course, Your Highness,” her loyal and royal attendant Lance furiously scribbles on his parchment, a doodle of stick-figure Princess Keith with a ‘V’ for eyebrows and a sword almost as tall as he is, standing on—or rather hovering above—a rowboat with a waving skull-and-crossbones flag. “May I add, though: If you want to storm the cave to get Princess Keith back, it’s not the dragon’s doing.”

Crown Princess Allura majestically whirls around, her hair spreading around her like a ring of cloud as her eyes positively blaze in fury.

Naturally, Lance can be pardoned for yelping and dodging behind an unoccupied suit of armour nearby.

(I specify the suit of armour as unoccupied, because this is the era of knights in shining armour and it’s rather impolite to describe Lance hiding behind the armour when logically he can ask the knight to defend him better.)

(Oh yeah, he can’t. The knight is under the princess’ jurisdiction and more likely to decapitate Lance instead.)

(My apologies.)

“Why,” Crown Princess Allura hisses, “do you _think_ this is not that oversized, unnecessary reptile’s doing?”

Lance’s hand pops up out of the breastplate to lift a forefinger. “Because the villagers who reported Princess Keith’s kidnapping also reported that it was pirates selling loot there who kidnapped him, Your Highness.”

Crown Princess Allura instantly begins a new screech and series of orders, prompting her loyal and royal attendant to furiously scribble again. He adds on his doodle several faceless stick figures  with eye-patches surrounding the boat with their arms lifted up, presumably in celebration, along with a disproportionately detailed and beautiful banner above, bearing the words ‘The Pirate Princess of Seven Seas’.

He doodles some fishes, seashells, and starfishes too.

* * *

 

“What do you mean Princess Keith is _kidnapped_?!”

Lotor shoots up from his throne, expression aghast.

“Well, I mean he is... kidnapped?” Ezor shrugs. “I don’t think there’s any other way to interpret it.”

“That was a rhetorical question, Ezor,” Lotor and Acxa say at the same time, Lotor’s tone a tad more snappish, Acxa’s a tad more exasperated mother-ly.

Narti feeds the fishes happily swimming in one of the ponds inside the cave, putting one hand on Kova so the cat won’t feast on them. Zethrid snorts.

“For someone who loves to swordfight so much, that princess sure does get kidnapped a lot,” she comments.

“Don’t be insensitive, Zethrid. Ordinary damsels these days have overcome the distress curse, but princesses are always more tempting targets. _They_ always get kidnapped, regardless of how strong they are,” Lotor chides her gently.

“That, and the majority of Princess Keith’s kidnapping so far was committed by you, Your Highness,” Acxa adds dryly. She glances at Lotor—certain that she is going to see him pretending he has not heard her—but ends up doing a double take, finding him busily, rapidly, and correctly building a ship instead.

And is that Narti making a rope ladder?

“Oooh, let me do the flag! And the clothes!” Ezor volunteers, clapping excitedly.

“I will help you with the heavy-lifting, Lotor,” Zethrid follows, flexing her biceps as if ensuring anyone doubting her heavy-lifting ability.

Lotor, crawling on the yard of the ship and hammering in nails, gestures at them absently. “Make sure the front of my blouse opens slightly in a scintillating manner, Ezor, and that the plume on my hat is properly curled.”

“May I embroider the flag and the eye-patches?”

“Do as you see it fit.”

Acxa sighs to herself. “I will see to the victuals.”

* * *

 

The ship is finished with an astounding speed, as are the procuring (by Acxa) and storing (by Zethrid) of victuals, as well as the making of the flag and clothes.

Fetchingly arrayed in a purple coat with puffy sleeves and a purple tricorne hat with a curling plume, Usually-Dragon-But-Currently-Pirate Prince Lotor brandishes his amethyst-encrusted cutlass with an infuriatingly handsome smirk.

“Very good, everyone. Hark the starboard, we go™!”

~Line from 海賊Fの肖像 (The Portrait of Pirate F) ＊ English Chorus~

He then pushes a button, and the ship set sails.

Narti asks in her own language, ‘ _Do you think we are going to survive this quest?_ ’

Acxa answers her solemnly, “Do not fret. Living is overrated.”

* * *

 

“Faster! Faster!” the order, which is dangerously likely to be interpreted wrongly, is immediately followed by, “We have no time to lose! Any moment now and my beloved brother may be dead— _or worse_.”

Crown Princess Allura’s large, beautiful, crystalline, enchanting, cerulean blue eyes with a touch of cherry blossom hue widen in horror at the ‘or worse’. She can clearly imagine all the dangers the sea poses: Being eaten by sharks, being cast adrift in a storm, being thrown around like a something that is generally thrown around when the storm shakes the ship, being beaten by the crew just because, being sunburnt, being pecked by seagulls...!

“Do not lose hope, Your Highness,” Spymaster Kolivan soothes the crown princess, although the tone of his voice is just like when he says ‘Do not leave out your vegetables, Your Highness’.

“That is true,” Vice-Spymaster Antok confirms, his own voice a fraction more sympathetic. “At least the current favourite erotica for the pirates in this part of the sea is still _His Mistress of the Sea_. If it was something involving octopodes such as is the current favourite in the East, I could not guarantee Princess Keith return with unscarred body and mind.”

Dead silence descends on them, before Kolivan silently proceeds to throw his second-in-command overboard and Crown Princess Allura shouts orders to the crew again.

Amidst it all, Lance gazes soulfully at the calmly rippling surface of the sea. He closes his eyes, ready to go into flashback. Alas, his presence is required.

“Lance! Your friend the chef is down for the count. Lend a hand and scale all those fishes for our supper, why don’t you?”

Lance whines.

* * *

 

He can do this. He _knows_ he can do this. There is absolutely no reason that he cannot do this.

Keith nods to himself. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and clenching his fists.

_He can do this._

Opening his eyes, Keith reaches _His Mistress of the Sea_ and flips open the first page, only to fling the guiltless (save for the ‘crime’ of corrupting the mind of youths) erotica overboard at the alarmed yell of the crew on the crow’s nest.

“Two ships approaching, captain! No, wait—two _royal_ ships approaching! Altean and Galran ships!”

Oh quiznak, it’s a relief that Keith hasn’t read the erotica yet.

The wide-eyed princess presses a hand against his lump-less chest in relief, uncaring that Captain Rolo is ordering the crew to ready the cannons before suddenly looking around in confusion.

He pretends not to hear Captain Rolo asking, “Hey, did anyone see my book?”

He also pretends not to see First Mate Nyma winking and giving him a thumbs-up, as if thanking him for getting rid of Captain Rolo’s book.

The three ships finally come close enough for the crews to start throwing ~~hands~~ ropes and literally come swinging into the pirate ship. Very soon the crews are engaged in fights, not unlike a battle royal. Except that in a battle royal, the participants do not fight with pepper-spray and a heeled shoe like First Mate Nyma does. Or with hair-pulling, name-calling, face-slapping, and on-the-floor-rolling as Keith’s beloved sister, Allura, and Keith’s... _uncategorized acquaintance_ , Lotor do. The betting (of whether Allura or Lotor will win) is quite common, though.

Keith wants nothing more than to join in the fight, especially Allura’s and Lotor’s fight, but he knows to stay hidden. Unfortunately, before he manages to consider whether to join in the fight or hide, he finds himself hoisted before everyone, the sharp part of a cutlass tapped below his chin.

“Now, none of you move, or the princess _gets it_ ,” Keith can’t see it, but he bets Captain Rolo is giving a sleazy leer. He has seen the pirate captain practice that look in the mirror three times a day.

“Hands off the princess,” Spymaster Kolivan orders, but before Captain Rolo can throw his head back and do his villainous laugh (which needs more practice if Keith may say), Spymaster Kolivan smirks at him. “You will do so, or the princess will pummel you. I have switched your cutlass with a fake!”

(Kolivan does not mention it as he deems it unimportant, but he purchased the fake cutlass from a girl scout.)

Everybody gasps, surprised. When did Kolivan find the chance to do that? And why the hell did he not free Keith instead?

“W, well!” Captain Rolo understandably stutters, _fuck I wasn’t taught to handle this in piracy school_. “Then... I will just throw the princess overboard!”

Keith blinks. Before anyone can stop him, Captain Rolo has thrown Princess Keith overboard, then whirls around triumphantly.

“How’s that?” he crows.

“...you realize that you just threw away our only bargaining tool, right,” Nyma deadpans.

“...oh no.”

“Oh yes, you jellyfish.”

* * *

 

Deep in the galley, Lance gazes soulfully at the calmly rippling surface of the sea out of the porthole, a barrel full of scaly fish on one side and a barrel full of scaled fish on the other. He has not closed his eyes despite wanting to go into flashback once again, which is extremely fortunate, as he gets to see Princess Keith thrown into the water, poofy red dress, bound forearms and all.

Lance has read _His Mistress of the Sea_ more than enough times to know that in order to acquire his own mistress of the sea, he must first rescue her/him/them from being drowned to death and earn her/his/their eternal gratitude.

Also, he may or may not harbour repressed romantic feeling for the princess, but this is neither here nor there.

With a dubiously masculine gasp of “Princess Keith!”, Lance dives after the princess through the porthole. Sans trousers and boots, allowing his dubiously masculine, long legs to morph into a flashy, blue fish tail.

* * *

 

Back at the pirate ship, after rushing to the edge only in time to see their baby brother/love life/person they want to protect, a wave of depression (heh, _wave_ ) descends upon both Altean and Galran crews—well, the Galran crew consisting of only Lotor; his generals-slash-friends do pity his shitty luck, though.

Kolivan hangs up his head in shame. “I have failed you,” his voice is barely above a whisper.

Allura sinks in (heh, _sink_ ) to her knees, fingertips delicately placed above her lips. A tear drops down her cheek in the most Cinematic™ manner.

Lotor staggers on his feet, staring into the horizon. He can scarcely utter a word.

Rolo and Nyma discreetly moves their things into the lifeboat, lowers it from the davit, and rapidly rows it away.

It is in the midst of all this angst that Lance emerges out of the sea, nonexistent long hair flipping behind him Ariel style™. Hoisted above his head like a trophy is a not-dead-but-dead-eyed Princess Keith, somehow not requiring CPR despite having been underwater for a couple minutes.

Lance gives what he intends to be a charming smile or at least an infuriating smirk, but ends up looking more like a sleazy leer instead. _He is a natural at that_ , Keith notes.

“So do I get a reward?”

“I’d say you deserve a kiss,” Keith says, wanting to sound sarcastic. Alas, being nearly drowned makes his voice sound earnest instead. Lance instantly goes as red as a boiled lobster and Lotor, after hauling them up with a fishing net, hurriedly puts himself between Lance and Keith like a dragon protecting his territory.

“You cannot be serious?!” Lotor gestures at Lance, who is making elaborate gestures that can be liberally interpreted as the ways in which he’s going to murder Lotor, in disgust. “Look at him. He is so... _him_. He is not even a prince like I am!”

Lance snaps. “Well, jokes on you, Prince Loser, I’m a prince too!”

Keith, on his way to half-heartedly defend Lance (after all, Lance _has_ rescued him), stops short at that.

“Hold on, you’re a prince?” his eyes dart at the tail wagging under Lance. “...a _merfolk_ prince?”

Lance nods proudly. “The youngest one, yeah. Left the ocean as soon as I was of age, enrolled at Second Altea’s Knight Academy, graduated and became Crown Princess Allura’s royal attendant all through my own hard work. I have quite an excellent reputation, I know.”

“What reputation? The reputation of being Princess Keith’s _unknown_ rival?” after politely waiting for Lance to finish telling them the—thankfully—short version of his progress to greatness, Lotor snarks. “Allow me to let you know, McClain, that the true rival of Princess Keith... is _me_!”

Lotor flips his hair, making the locks slap Keith over the face. Keith sneezes.

“Oh no, you’re not, Prince Loser!” Lance snaps. “Keith and I have been rivals since our days at Knight Academy! Keith and Lance, neck and neck!”

“Uh, guys?”

“But it’s all in the past, is it not? You may have history with Princess Keith, but I have chemistry with him!”

“Hey, guys.”

“Well, what is it with you kidnapping Princess Keith to hang out together, anyway?! That’s totally not proper rival behaviour!”

“La— _wait what’s your name again_ —McClain?”

“You fool! Don’t you know that a proper rivalry requires the rivals to respect each other’s skill and even opinion, and that it must give hints of a budding romance?! I have proposed duel with Princess Keith that can be misinterpreted as a proposal of marriage!”

“Lotor...”

Whatever heart-stabbing reply Lance intends to say is cut by the presence of a perfectly manicured hand clasping him at the nape. The same goes with Lotor, who widens his eyes at the perpetrator.

Crown Princess Allura, dainty yet dashing, chivalrous yet callous, lifts a finely pencilled eyebrow as she effortlessly hauls both the dragon prince and her royal attendant by their necks like stray cats.

In the background, Princess Keith is seen crossing his arms while muttering “I’ve tried to warn you two, ain’t my fault now”; next to him is Kolivan quirking a small, yet obviously triumphant smile. He decrees;

“Exiled, forever and ever.”

And Princess Keith with his sister Crown Princess Allura live and grow into charming spinsters happily ever after.

~The End~


End file.
